


You Better Watch Out

by ciaconnaa



Series: 12 Days of Irondad & Spideyson Christmas [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, and peter gets a GSW, but the descriptions are not graphic and there are no deaths, there are discussions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaconnaa/pseuds/ciaconnaa
Summary: “So, anyway. There I am, standing in line. There was this old, old woman in front of me with blue hair and a cardigan with a really cool enamel pin of a black cat with a knife in its mouth and I thought it was the perfect gift for Michelle for Christmas and I was about to ask her where she got it-”“The point, Pete.”“Right. Well, that’s when Kris Kringle and the Holly Jollies waltzed in, guns blazing.”or;Peter Parker has dealt with some pretty weird shit. Getting shot by Santa Claus is no different.





	You Better Watch Out

Peter Parker has dealt with some pretty weird shit. Getting shot by Santa Claus is no different.

Strangely enough, that doesn’t seem to sooth Tony’s arrhythmia as he’s trying to pick out the fragmented bullets left in Peter’s shoulder.

At first, after he’s been flown to the Avengers compound via Iron Man suit, Tony says nothing. He rushes around the medbay getting sterilized this and sterilized that. He takes x-rays. He takes a blood sample. He checks the x-rays again. He steals the bottle of Natasha’s prized vodka bottle from the bar. Then he checks the x-rays one last time and decides he has enough science smarts and experience picking out shrapnel out of his own body to take care of the bullet stuck in Peter.

“We don’t have any pain meds that’ll work on you, so this will have to do. Don’t tell May,” he says, pouring two shots. He makes Peter take them both.

“Did I just drink _battery acid._ ”

“Start from the beginning.”

His face is still scrunched up from realizing he’s just swallowed _nuclear waste,_ but he does his best to tell the story like Tony likes it: a no nonsense, scientific point of view with absolutely none of Peter’s witty input.

Sike.

“I was there to cash the check you gave me,” he says, watching as Tony prods around in his open wound. Bleh. “You know, the one that you called my Christmas Bonus and forced me to accept?”

Tony hums, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose just a little more. “Haven’t you heard of mobile banking?”

Peter bites back a retort as he’s too busy biting the inside of his own cheek to keep from hissing out in pain. “So, anyway. There I am, standing in line. There was this old, old woman in front of me with blue hair and a cardigan with a really cool enamel pin of a black cat with a knife in its mouth and I thought it was the perfect gift for Michelle for Christmas and I was about to ask her where she got it-”

“The point, Pete.”

“Right. Well, that’s when Kris Kringle and the Holly Jollies waltzed in, guns blazing.”

Tony pauses in his work, sparing Peter a wary look. “Holly. Jollies.”

“His crew,” he says because _duh._ It’s a good name. “There was Mrs. Claus, Rudolph, Jack Skellington-”

“Who is Jack -”

“-Buddy the Elf,”

“Who is _Buddy-”_

“-and then the Grinch.” Peter pauses and looks down at his shoulder. Bad idea. It’s _yucky._ He turns his head the other way, grinding his molars for a moment. “Only the Grinch wasn’t actually like, a bad guy for once. Santa strapped a bomb to him.”

“A _bomb!?”_

“Now that I think about it, I guess Santa also put him in the Grinch costume. And painted his face green. And put the mask on - man, bad guys are _weird.”_

Tony’s voice is _strained._ “Get back to the bomb, please!”

“Oh, oh, don’t worry. I told the police before you whisked me away. It wasn’t like...the alien tech, Washington Monument deal. Pretty sure the bomb was a dud. A fake. Me and Old Lady Blue Hair figured that out pretty quickly.”

“How?”

Peter blows out a breath. It’s more of a shudder. He’s starting to feel the effects of that battery acid. “Pretty obvious. Wires weren’t even connected.”

Tony manages to snort out a laugh. “Amateurs.”

Peter feels particularly painful twinge when Tony gets the first bullet fragment out and plops it into some dish with a _ping._ He doesn’t bother suppressing the whine that time, and Tony gives him a sympathetic look.

“Sorry, buddy. Got to get the stuff out before you heal over it. How’s the alcohol workin’ for you?”

Not as great as the Captain America grade pain meds that Cho has, but better than Advil, so Peter can’t really complain. “Fine,” he says shortly, because not talking about it the best medicine of all. People really shouldn’t count out the power of distraction. “So anyway, I didn’t have my suit, but it’s not like I couldn’t do _nothing._ I mean...the bomb was a _dud.”_

Tony waves the pliers around. “Yeah, but the guns _weren’t.”_

He shrugs, and immediately regrets it. Tony’s hand comes to keep him still when he cries out and then he resumes his work like nothing happened. “So what,” Tony goes on, “You just stood up in the middle of the bank to draw all the attention on you? Did you yell, ‘hey I’ve got tons of money, I have a check from Tony Stark, rob me!””

“Uhhhh….”

Peter can see him nearly banging his head against the cot. “Kid. You _didn’t.”_

“Not those words exactly!” he says, voice shrill and squeaky. “But I needed a distraction! I had money...those guys wanted money...it seemed like a good fit.”

He plops another fragment into the tray before he waves it around in Peter’s face. “Yeah, and it was a real good plan, wasn’t it? Worked out just _peachy.”_

“Well, I’m not dead. So...yes?”

“Kid.” He drops another fragment into the tray. “I swear to _God_.”

“It got me close enough!” Peter defends before he slouches a little more, trying to sink into the med cot. Tony keeps mumbling about one more fragment while looking at the x-ray, but Peter isn’t seeing the fragment. And all that digging around _hurts._ He wants another shot of battery acid. “I guess I should be thanking you for making me train with Natasha in hand to hand combat. I was able to grab the gun out of Buddy’s hands. No webs needed.”

“Told you.”

“Right. Then it was me and Santa in an old fashioned Mexican standoff.”

“You’ve never seen a Western in your life.” He pauses, pulling back, and Peter gives a sigh of relief at a break from all the prodding. “You held a gun up to someone? No-guns Spider-Man? Goody Two-Shoes Parker? You. You held Santa at gunpoint.”

It’s not his proudest moment.

“For like...five seconds,” he admits. “Until I threw it at him.”

Tony’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. “You - threw what? The _gun?”_ and Peter nods. “You _threw the gun_ at Santa Claus?”

“I said I’d never shoot anyone, I never said I wouldn’t clock someone.”

“You _threw the gun.”_

“Yes.”

“Instead of shooting it.”

“Yes.”

“Unbelievable.”

Peter cringes, both at the memory and at Tony’s resumed _picking._ He really wishes Bruce and Helen weren’t so far away. Despite his best efforts, Iron Man doesn’t make the best doctor. “But Santa had no qualms about shooting guns so when I threw it….he shot me. And then that’s when you showed up!”

“Good thing I did,” his voice is muffled as he adjusts the overhead light over Peter’s cot, trying to get a better look into his shoulder. “Because if Rudolph, Buddy and John -”

“Jack.”

“- had decided to make swiss cheese of you with more bullets, I’m not entirely sure I’d be able to get them out.”

A worrisome thought crosses Peter’s mind. “...Can you? Get them out?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony says, looking back at the x-rays. “I just can’t be gentle anymore.”

Peter’s jaw drops. “You’ve been _gentle?”_

“Do you want another shot? I’ll give you another shot.”

“Please don’t shoot me, Mr. Stark. One bullet a day is quite enough.”

“I meant the vodka - _Pete.”_

“Sorry, sorry,” he winces as Tony moves his arm into another position. “I’m good. Just….get it over with.”

A long, defeated sigh. Then, “Okay. Fine. Just...try and distract yourself. Clint always sings a little tune, he says that works wonders for him.”

As Tony said, the pain definitely intensifies. He’s regretting not taking him up on that offer for another shot after all. So he tries to distract himself like he suggested. Because distractions are the best. His singing, not so much. “Ooohhh, you better watch out, you better not cry-”

“Kid, are you serious.”

“- you better not pout - ouch! - I’m telling you why -ow, ow! Santa Claus is coming to town~”

“This is..." Tony blows out a deep breath, "….my nightmare. _”_

“He’s makin’ a list, he’s checkin’ it twice, he’s had it up to here with being so nice, Santa Claus is robbing you blind ~”

_“Peter.”_

There’s one particular wave of extreme pain and Peter _squeaks_ before Tony pulls out the last bullet fragment, dropping it in the pan. “There. You’re done. Now I just gotta wrap you up.”

He resists the urge to look back down at his arm and fails. It looks terrible. But he’s had worse. “Stitches?”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t think so. By the time I’d be done, your shoulder will probably be trying to pop them out. But I’ll check it again in a few hours.”

“Yay! No stitches. A Christmas miracle.”

“You _just_ got shot.”

“And I lived. Yay! Two Christmas miracles.”

Tony looks tired. Unbelievably tired. So very, very, tired. “You’re responsible for every grey hair on my head, you know that? It’s a wonder I keep you around.”

He gasps. “ _Three_ Christmas miracles.”

Tony puts both hands over his face and screams, just a little.

Peter grins.

**Author's Note:**

> ugh I rewrote this entire thing twice before I got this. migraine for the past 3 days. I am so tired....a little behind, but I got her done. sorry it's not my best and a little on the short side. murry chrysler. 
> 
> also remember that tumblr post about spidey and deadpool where deadpool sees spidey pick up a gun and he's like "omg he's gonna SHOOT" and then he THROWS THE GUN" I had to put it in a fic eventually. I had to.
> 
> alsO sorry about alcohol as pain meds but it's worked for me in the past so??????? okay bye
> 
> EDIT: I've made a small side blog on tumblr, same username, if you want to talk there


End file.
